A little love from Sputnik

Spring Cleaning?

Okay listen (or read). What the heck is spring cleaning for? Let me propose something...

I don't ever clean during the "spring" times. I usually find myself cleaning during the dark or winter times, and I think this speaks volumes to the human condition. Maybe it's just the way I am wired. I am more of a feeler than a thinker... Thank you Myers Briggs. When spring time rolls around I'm feeling the sun shine and life. I'm watching things grow up fresh and I'm out in it. There is no cleaning; just going and doing and living. 

I think we (I at least) do all the cleaning in the dreary times to simulate the stable times. I can see that little Zoloft bubble bouncing across my imagination because I think our whole generation has social anxiety disorder. Are people really watching closely and constantly enough that you have to seem perfect at every turn?

Example. This past weekend I received some news. The kind of news that makes you want to vomit but you can't because you can't even breath. I made my humble attempts at processing and prayer and continued to go along with this thing in my gut. When I got home guess what I did... I cleaned. I cleaned my room. I washed all the dishes and there hasn't been a used dish in the sink since. I washed my car...really?! Yes really. And I did loads of laundry. No pun intended. 

Why? What good does that do? None really. I just had to get all the ducks in a row that I had some control over. "Look at me. I have everything under control. It's all good." And it seems to me that Christians are the worst at this. Hmmm.

Thoughts?

Faith. Hope. Life.

So I went to a show last night. I went to see friends and be with friends. The fact that it was free was cool, but let's be honest... I would have gone anyway. It was a fantastic evening. Conversation and catching up turned to music, turned to reflections on Easter, turned to fellowship, turned to worship. Every aspect of the night was beautiful, but I noticed something as I enjoyed the perfectness of it all, and that something is what I wanted to share. 

There were kids everywhere! Newborns in strollers. Toddlers all bundled up. Young kids sleeping in the pews. There was one kid in the back that yelled something terribly cute after every song. I never new what he or she was saying, but in my heart I knew it was worshipful. Lot's of the kids were the children of artists I went to see, and I am sure I watched just as many little ones running ahead of their parents in to the lobby where we had the merch set up. 

One of my favorite things about my friends that played last night is the sheer amount of talent that was displayed on the stage. Not just musicianship but lyrics and the care and intention I know was put in to each song. They were songs about faith, hope and life. Hey there was even one song about a shinny rocket and another about a baby peeing on his dad. As I sat there and listened to my friends play their music for family and friends that had come to a hometown show I was reminded of something I have let myself forget. There is life in this gift of music. I had gone to see most of my favorite artists share a stage, and most of the night my attention was drawn away from the front to watch a bunch of kids react to the music, stare at nothing really, or just pull their mom's hair... and it was great. 

So in this very real, artistic, humble, creative community I have longed for there is no fame or riches or glamor, but there is love and life. And there is a Savior. Jesus said He came that we may have life to the full, and I am thankful that He has surrounded me with so much new life...and music. That's cool.